Why?
by Khoshekh42
Summary: When something goes horribly wrong, the brothers are left in the aftershock of it. And neither know how they'll make it through. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! Rated T for suicide and language.


_"Why?"_ Sam didn't answer, knowing that any answer that he gave was just going to make things worse. Things like 'it's going to be okay' wouldn't work on a person like Dean. Because for Dean it wouldn't ever be okay.

"Why Sam?" Dean repeated the question. A plead for answers that Sam didn't have. Dean's hands clutched at Sam's shirt, as if he needed something, at least, to hold on to. Sam cried silently as he admitted his lack of answers to Dean, "I don't know, Dean. I'm sorry." For a moment it looked as if Dean was going to hit Sam, or push him away. Instead, he let go of the fabric of Sam's shirt and jacket that he'd had balled up in his fists, and sank down to the ground with a sob. Which was worse. So much worse. Dean just sat there and stared at the body for a long time.

For Dean it wasn't just a body. It was The Body. Even his father hadn't been The Body. Even holding Sam after Jake stabbed him hadn't been The Body. With John... it was too complicated. With Sam he knew in the deep of his heart that he was going to fix it. But with Cas... Cas was so much more different. More final. At one point Dean reached out and just set his fingertips on the edge of Cas's right shoe, "Cas." He said. And that one word said everything that Dean had left unsaid. That he was sorry. That he forgave him for everything. That he loved was family. That he loved him. It was too much for Sam at this point, and left Dean alone with Cas for a while. Cas had died before, but nothing that was this final. Lucifer exploded him, but that hadn't been so bad. He walked into a lake, but even then Dean had something. He had a world to save. And he had Bobby and Sam. Now he just had Sam. And he didn't know if that was enough. He had seen plenty of death in his days, too much of it. But this had to be the worst. Something about it, just...

_ Dean burst through the door, seeing Cas lying in the middle of the warehouse floor, struggling to breathe, and a bright stain soaking through his shirt. It was staining the tan trenchcoat. Cas opened his mouth to speak as Dean was at his side in an instant, screaming for Sam to help. Screaming for help. Desperately. He needed help. He needed everything to be okay. He told Cas not to speak, but he knew that that wasn't going to stop his Angel from telling him what he had to speak before he died. But Cas couldn't die. Not today. Not any day. Dean always assumed that he would die before Cas did. But since when had anything ever gone to plan for Dean. Cas was still struggling to breathe, "Dean." He said. "Dean, I..." But he never got to finish. The bright light knocked Dean to the wall of the warehouse and it was over. It was too late as Sam ran in to see Dean cradling Cas in his arms. It was too late as Dean cried._

Two months later, Sam found Dean's body lying between the burnt wings of the Angel Castiel. He lied just where Cas had when he had died. The knife in his stomach completing the picture. The note at his feet. Just seeing the note lying at Dean's feet, where Dean had stood when he'd asked 'Why' such a long time ago, it nearly made Sam sick. This wasn't how Dean was supposed to go. He was supposed to go fighting. Hunting. Doing the job, with a gun in his hand. Just like he'd said. The note.

Sammy. I'm sorry for this. I really am. I know that I'm a bad person for leaving you there to pick up all of the pieces. But I just can't do it anymore. I just want it to all be over. I can't just go through life drinking to forget. Even though drinking doesn't really help anymore. I can't just forget this. It's always there I haven't even slept with anyone since he died. It just seems wrong. And I know that I never talked about him to you after he died. Hell, I can barely even write his name down on this paper. Cas. Castiel, Angel of the Lord. So I'll talk about him now. He was beautiful. You'd have to be blind and dumb not to see that. His eyes were blue. They were a blue that rivaled the sky and the ocean. I loved his eyes, and I never even got the chance to say that. I never told him that I loved him. He understood. I would screw up but I could count on him not to care. I could count on him for a lot of things. I defended him when he was working towards Purgatory because I knew that he would never intentionally do anything that would hurt the people closest to him. Not ever. Even if it would save the rest of the world. If he had to choose between the top five people closest to him living and everyone else dying, or everyone living except those five people, he would save those five people. In Purgatory, he chose to not let me take him with me. He thought that he deserved to be left in Purgatory even though I would've given anything to get him out of there alive. I adored his coat. I kept it when he walked into the lake. It was the only thing that I had left of him, but I still kept it. I kept it folded and nice in the back of every car that we went through during that time period, so that if a miracle happened, it would be ready for him. I never told you this, but I never let him ditch it in Purgatory. No matter how many times he tried. He wanted to, but I never let him. He never quite had a clean shave, and I thought that was endearing on him. Dean Winchester using words like endearing to describe facial hair. It was dead sexy too. When he died, I didn't know what to do anymore. I prayed to him every single night, without fail. I prayed to him hoping that I might just get another miracle. But who was I kidding. I never get lucky. I never got to tell him any of this while he was alive. I should've. And if I could go back in time I'd do it in a heartbeat even though I was scared out of my wits to do it before. I always thought that he would live long after I died. That's just how Angels are. But of course, he ends up dying just four years after I met him. What is that? Someone lives for millennia, and then he meets a guy that loves him, and he dies four years later. I didn't even realize it until last year. I'd been trying to pluck up the tiniest amount of courage to act, and actually do something about it. Strange how a guy can go through the Apocalypse, can go through monsters from the beginning of time that are smarter then you and you don't know how to kill yet they have a thousand ways to kill you, can go through Purgatory; yet when it comes to walking a matter of two feet (five inches really, he did have problems with personal space. Not that it was really a problem in the end though) and kissing a guy, he just can't do it. One of the most fearless hunters alive, and he can't give a guy a kiss. I even tried summoning him once. Then when it didn't work, I sat there crying for twenty minutes. What I think that I'm trying to say here, Sammy, is that when his life came to a close, my life ended too. I was a broken mess. I wouldn't stop drinking, I wouldn't sleep. And when I did pass out because I'd had too much to drink, it was all nightmares. I was reliving that one moment over and over again in the nightmare. It was more like Hell for me then Hell was. I didn't want to hunt. I didn't even want revenge. I just sat in a chair all day. Even watching the television was weird, and awkward. Every tiny thing about this world reminds me of him. The sky makes me think of his eyes. People in suits on the street make me think of the suit, and the backwards tie of his, that I would fix just to break my own personal space rule. The bees make me think of when he took away your craziness because he felt guilty. All knives- whether an Angel blade, or demon knife, or steak, or butter- make me think of the knife that he held in his hands after taking it out of his own stomach. I think about everything that he said to us. All of that weird Angel stuff. His ignorance. When I would make references that he wouldn't get. Sometimes, in Purgatory even Benny would get the references, and Cas wouldn't, so that night, we sit around a small smokeless fire, and Benny and I would tell Cas all about the things that he misses. I think about when I first met him, I stabbed him. The very first thing I did that was up close and personal (obviously besides him rescuing me in Hell) was stab him. The last thing that I saw happen to him, was him being stabbed. I think about when he discovered porn. I think about the jealousy that I felt when he kissed Meg. Even before I realized that I loved him. So now, by the time that you read this (unless you steal it from me while I'm writing it, you've already asked what I'm writing. That would get awkward) I'm dead. And that's truly what I want. I'll be in my Heaven, and I'll be with Cas, and I'll be with you and Jess (I've always liked her the most out of all of your girlfriends). It'll be normal. I don't really know if you knew this, but I think that, in the end, I wanted a normal life just as much as you did. If fact when we ran into the jinn, my dream, my desire, was to have a normal, apple pie life. I have a girlfriend (this was before I met Cas remember), you are engaged to Jess, Mom's alive. It's a great life, even if it wasn't perfect. We weren't as close in that universe. I think that, I liked this version of reality better. Until Cas died. He was my anchor I realize now. I know that if you had died, everything would be the similar to how it is now, but different. I'd probably kiss Cas, and then do the deed that I'm planning now. I have nobody anymore, Sammy. You're doing everything that you can for me right now, but I can't just selfishly take away your life like this Sam. It's not fair for you. So as I leave you, I just ask two things of you. Please, avenge Cas. He deserves it, even if I'm in no state to do it myself, tell the thing that I sent you too. And then, after you do that, go back to college, and get your normal life back. Because I'm happier now. I'm sorry, Sammy. I love you.

Sam did eventually find the ting that killed his best friend, and essentially his brother too. That was a month after Dean. And then, a month after that, it was the police that found Sam's body lying between the wings at the warehouse. There was no note. There was no note to read, explaining everything. Because there was no one left to read it. No one left. But still the question is asked. By Garth, and Charlie, and Kevin. By all of the people that they changed. They still ask the question. Why?


End file.
